


Still Parts

by theimpossibleimpala



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drabble, Feelings, Lance missing earth, M/M, New Years Eve, One Shot, One-sided Conversation, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Worrying about Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:04:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimpossibleimpala/pseuds/theimpossibleimpala
Summary: Coran sends photos of the night's New Years Eve party to paladins. Keith notices Lance looking sad. He has to say something, even if he feels dumb about it.





	Still Parts

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place pre-season 3.

 

IT WAS the first time he hadn't felt so damn conflicted about being in the same room as everyone else. The first time he really let his guard down and laughed. Keith's heart had swelled with it, filled with it, and he'd tried to memorise everyone's faces–tried to catalogue the warmth in his chest and emotion running through his veins.

He's never had this before. Friends.

Which is dumb. All of this is dumb. Keith's been _here_ before. Well, sort of. He's never made it quite this far. His first year at the Garrison he had almost made friends with a couple of other outcast-type kids, but all it took was one poorly timed nightmare to shake that hope right out of him. He'd been chatting, getting along with them, and had started considering opening up. And then he dreamt of his absent parents. His absent home. And he remembered that he should leave them before they leave him. 

He hopes that doesn't happen again.

Keith pulls his phone out of his coat pocket then tosses the jacket over a chair and lays down on his bunk. Lights off.

He shuts his eyes, rubbing his gloved hands over his face in distress. How quickly that happy feeling has ebbed away. Keith's phone beeps, making him jump. Sliding the screen open, he sees a photo message from Coran. Whoever had taught that man–and Keith is willing to bet it was Pidge–how to text would pay one day. Coran is a proven fan of group messages and out-of-context photos of his mustache.

Coran's sent a number of photos to the group chat. They're from less than an hour ago in the lounge, where everyone has coloured paper crowns on and confetti stuck to their clothes. It's New Years on Earth tonight. Keith is pretty sure the whole party meant a lot more to the other paladins than it meant to him, but even so he had a good time.

Keith stares at the pictures. Some are photos Coran took of them off-guard, but most are of them in pairs and groups being at the camera, bowls of green goo in hand or sparkling blue cider. And there's a few grinning selfies with Allura and others. There's a candid shot of Keith and the other paladins opening their holiday poppers, the coloured crowns and bad jokes falling out. For some reason Pidge and Hunk had found it hilarious that Keith and Lance had got oppositely coloured crowns. That is–Keith's crown was blue, Lance's red.

Keith pauses. His finger poised for swiping. Something in this picture catches his attention. Keith, in the picture, is putting the crown on his head with a playful scowl, looking at Pidge and Hunk who are lying on their backs in stitches. And Lance...

Lance is staring down at the red paper crown in his hands with absolute saddest expression Keith has ever seen him make.

It knocks the breath out of him. Like he walked in on Lance unaware in his bedroom. Or like Keith overheard and intimate phone call. Or a heartfelt conversation. Keith suddenly wishes he could unsee the picture. He wishes he could go to everyone's phones and delete the picture before they can see it.

Keith is about to shut his phone off, when he pauses again.

Lance's brow is creased, frown pulling down on his face. It's so honest. So vulnerable. Where has this part of Lance been the past months? Or has it always been there, and Keith just has never noticed?

Probably the latter, Keith thinks, if he knows himself at all. Because if tonight was the first time he's ever felt a part of the group then it makes sense that he's never noticed how everyone feels beneath it all until now. Or at least not Lance. 

Keith sighs loudly. He supposes this was coming one day or another.

It's a weird thing. Between him and Lance. Keith's not sure when it began. Or why it started off as some bizarre rivalry and why it's now some neutral acceptance of the others existence. And he's not sure why they train in absolute silence almost every day, sparring together.

In fact, Keith isn't sure about a lot of things.

But he is sure that he's sorta-maybe-in love with Lance. And that it was only half the reason his heart felt so full tonight. Only half the reason he smiled.

Keith's at his door, jacket back on, hand on the knob. He takes a deep breath, and before he loses his nerve he goes out into the silent castle corridor.

Chewing his lip, Keith makes the short walk to Lances room. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, annoyed at himself for being so dumb about this. _It's fine! He can just knock on the door. They're friends now, right? Him, and Lance?_

 _Yes, yes, of course they are. Don't be dumb,_ Keith reprimands himself. _Don't be dumb._

Keith readies to knock again–only to have the door open abruptly and Keith's mouth fall open in shock.

Lance stands there, just as startled as Keith is.

Keith isn't sure who starts talking first, but they start mumbling awkward apologies and _"hey"_ s and _"what are you doing"_ s until their air runs out and they're both silent again.

"You showed up outside my door, I think you gotta tell me what's up first, man."

Keith stares at Lance, whose eyes are half-shut with exhaustion. There's bags under his eyes. How has Keith never seen them before? They're not one-night-bags or even a few-nights-bags. They're like permanent features etched into Lance's face.

"What are you looking at? Never seen me in this light before?"

Keith shakes his head. The humour. The jokes. The overboard flirting. It all makes sense now. Walls. Masks.

"Keith. What's wrong?"

"Are you...? Are you...?" Keith bites his lip, glancing away. It doesn't feel right to call Lance out like this. But it also would feel worse to let it go by without saying anything.

When Keith sat in his Garrison dorm room, staring up at the black ceiling and thinking about how he was essentially alone in the universe, he had wished someone would come knock on his door and told him he mattered and that he wasn't alone. And so that's how he knows now, that even if Lance is pissed at him after this, that it's right to say something.

"Am I what?"

"Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?"

"You came to my door just to ask me that? Out of the blue?" Lance raises a brow, skeptical.

"Coran sent those pictures," Keith explains.

"So?"

"So, I don't know. Something about, uh. Well," Keith suddenly feels heated in his face. He pulls his fingers through his hair anxiously. "I thought you looked upset in one of them."

"I looked upset? In one of the pictures of the party?"

"Yes."

Lance gives a tired sigh, "Listen man. I don't know what you're talking about but I had a great time tonight and if this is you trying to–"

"You don't have to lie to me, Lance."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have to lie," Keith balls both hands up tightly, "I know that tonight was probably hard to deal with. With it being a holiday. And I know you probably are full of good New Years memories. And that this year everything is different. This year is probably, I don't know, kinda bad compared to your last ones. And so I just–well I just wanted to check that you're okay."

"Keith." Lances eyes are wide, and Keith notices that his hands have tightened on the doorframe. Lance looks down at his feet.

"What makes you think this one was bad?"

"I guess I assume you'd have higher standards. I guess I thought you'd...."

"Miss my family...?" Lance offers.

"Yeah," Keith breathes out. Glad Lance knows what he's trying to say.

The blue paladin doesn't say a word, just blinks and goes back into his room and leaves the door open. Keith grits his teeth and follows him inside. The door  slides shut behind him.

The mattress squeaks beneath him as Lance sits on the edge. He has fairy lights strung up on the border of his walls, glittering and lighting up the beanbag and baskets of alien trinkets in his room. Keith recognises a rock from the most recent planet they visited–the fluorescent orange is hard to forget. There's little vials of sands and liquids, shells and dried leaves, small bags or handmade decorative boxes on every available surface. And somehow this makes Keith sadder. This makes it more real. Lance has filled his room up with new memories because he doesn't have anything to show for the old ones.

"When did you get all this stuff?"

Lance shrugs, "Sorry it's a mess."

"No, no," Kieth corrects him quickly, "I like it. I wish... I wish I had thought to keep stuff like this."

"Oh."

The blue paladin starts pushing a ball around with his feet, still not looking at Keith. It's quiet. It's awkward. Again Keith is struck by how dumb this whole thing might be, by why he shouldn't be here, but he presses on.

"Listen. You don't have to talk to me. I know I'm not the greatest at listening all the time and I feel, well, I fell kinda dumb for being here at all, really." Keith runs his fingers through his bangs, tugging at his hair, "I don't want you to think I pity you or something, but I want you to know I sort of understand how you feel. Or, what at least it seems like maybe you feel. I'm not trying to make assumptions or anything, but, uh..."

He pauses, waiting to see if Lance will interrupt or send him away, but all Lance does is keep messing with the ball. As if Keith isn't even there. Fine. He can work with that.

"When I was at the Garrison, the only person I knew was Shiro. I didn't, um, I didn't have my dad–or my mom. And I barely knew what I was doing or why I was doing it if I had no one there with me to cheer me on. And when Shiro went on his mission and disappeared, I was even more alone. It sounds... really dumb when I say it like that but I just wanted to make sure you know that you're not alone. Not literally alone and also not in what you're experiencing. I know I can't make you feel better in general, but, well..." Lance's feet have stopped moving, "I just wanted you to know that. I guess."

Keith bites his lip, suddenly regretting ever opening his mouth. Ever looking at those pictures. Ever thinking he had found a place here when he still couldn't talk to his teammates normally. He stands abruptly.

"I'll just...go back to my room."

The paladin makes for the exit, steps out, and then freezes at the sound of the bed creaking behind him. He turns to see Lance stood, hands deep in pockets and head angled down in the partial light of his bedroom.

"Uh, I don't why I stood up," Lance fidgets absently with a furrowed brow, "but thanks. And uh, you're not alone either, man. It's not dumb."

Keith's heartstrings tighten, his face can't help but melt into a soft smile, and he would reply but he doesn't trust himself to sound normal.

Lance looks up, and smiles back at him.

And it's a shame that Keith's already stepped out of the room, because now the automatic door shuts between them, and he's left staring at it.

But at least he knows Lance is looking at the same thing.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow the first fic I've written and looooong time and the first one that was for Voltron! Hopefully they're not too out of character and I didn't make any weird editing mistakes. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
